


Leave the Lights On

by SharkandAwe



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Obsessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkandAwe/pseuds/SharkandAwe
Summary: The Doctor finds that there is only so much madness to be had when following The Entity's rules. Struggling with the monotony  of the hunt, he finds someone to challenge him. Never one to give up when the odds are against her, Jane Romero finds herself navigating these strange trials, all while trying to survive being a monster's new obsession. Did her past life prepare her to deal with the twisted mind of a killer, or will old insecurities doom her in this world as well?My take on a Doctor/Jane fic.
Relationships: Herman Carter/Jane Romero
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	1. New

**Author's Note:**

> I plan for this to be a multi-chapter affair. It's gonna be a weird ride, so brace yourselves. There will be violence as this is based on a violent game that I claim no rights to. As we go on I will add more tags or update the rating as needed. Please review if you like it and want more. Hell even if you don't like it, I'm willing to listen and learn. 
> 
> I will be taking some liberties with the Doctors powers. He is mainly based off the rework but I left in passive madness build up. Probably wont be the first liberty I take. Unbeta'd for the moment. Please bare with me. 
> 
> Doctor/Jane needs love.

Chapter One: New

There was never anything new within these cracked grey walls. Sometimes beds moved, doors closed, fog ebbed and flowed. It was predictable though. Consistent, It liked to tell him. It taunted him. It knew he hated the consistency.

_Where was the madness? Where was the freedom? ___

____

He prided himself in knowing every layout of his Institution. Sometimes It would place him in different areas, mix things up a little, bring some randomization when things had become too monotonous. Likewise he would return to his domain to find little inconsistencies, a hatchet sticking out of a door frame here, a partition with a chainsaw gouge there, evidence that he wasn’t the only one to be taken out of his element and made to hunt. He didn’t mind. On the contrary he found it hilarious. 

____

He knew his hunting grounds were not favorable to most. He never failed to laugh at his compatriots expense. He could just imagine the childish stomping of the Hillbilly when his spiked boots couldn’t find purchase on the cracked hospital floors causing him to careen into a wall, or the Huntress having a hatchet embed itself into one of the numerous stretchers rather than her prey. 

____

It gave just enough change to keep him compliant, but It liked to push him. It liked when he was unhinged, reveled in his frustration. The scientist in him could respect It for pushing his limits. He _hated _limits.__

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He was enraged, could feel the frustration tumbling in his stomach. Every laugh that he pushed out of his cracked lips bordered on hysteric wheezing. He wondered offhandedly if he could vomit, was that a bodily function he had been allowed to keep?

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_Allowed… ___

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He swung his stick, elbow buckling as it connected with the side of the survivors head. He laughed at the crunching sound that resounded as their body crumpled to the floor. There was no joy. This one had been giving him the run around for sometime. This one usually had his favorite scream. High pitched for one so masculine. His screams usually shot down his spine, warming his stomach. This time he just felt empty. 

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He rubbed his hands together, willing his spark to charge strong enough that he felt a hum in his fried nerves. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth as he bent his knees, absently noting how this one tried to crawl away, just like the last one. Hovering his hands on either side of the survivors head, he let all his bitter resentment surge forth in streaks of bright, raw energy. He watched the convulsions with unblinking, dry eyes, paying no mind to the repugnantly comforting smell of burning hair and flesh. Any second the feelings of power, control and euphoria would join the electricity thrumming through his body. 

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He grabbed at a clammy shoulder, absently staring at the rose tattoo under the corpse's ear as he had so many times, before turning him over. Black tendrils of smoke beautifully swirled around wide, panic stricken eyes. He felt _nothing._

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One's body temperature will always run hot when pure concentrated fire courses through their veins and wiring, but his face positively burned with seething frustration.

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_Two dead. Two more. There’s always four. ___

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His fingers curled as he raised his hand into the air, sending a static blast to his surroundings. Two screams, both distinctly feminine came from the same direction where he knew a generator to be nestled. One of them sounded strange, but he couldn’t think straight through the pounding in his head. The sounds of repair reached his ears, they were so close. With a flick of his wrist a beam of energy shot forward, two screams bounded off the peeling walls. The first he recognized, a deep, rich sound which had filled his halls time and time again. The second scream was…

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_New. ___

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Her scream sounded surprised. Even with his overwhelming presence had she not expected him? Did she not know who he was and what he did? Such a sweet, simple sound. It slid like silk around his ears. He swung as he rounded the corner, a glimpse of a business suit and a dark bun. His swing however never made contact with her. Her companion valiantly stepped in front and took the hit. The unknown woman's head swung around in shock, and for a moment their eyes met. Her questioning gaze quickly hardened as her instincts gave in and she bolted. 

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He should have gone after the other one. She was injured, moaning, and bleeding a nice trail for him to follow. He didn’t. He followed after the striped suit, enamored by the way her pear shape sprinted down the hall. He dashed after her. She ran straight, determined to get away, never looking back. He wanted her to look back. Wanted her to get a good look into his luminous eyes, to see the spark she had ignited. 

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He was on her quickly, she didn’t know where she was going, but she was going. He let her. Slowed his pace just enough to be on her heels. He was so focused on the way strands of her ebony locks slid out of her bun he didn’t notice they ran right through a pallet. Didn’t notice the other girl crouched next to it, despite her deep pained groans. The pallet dropped and pain coursed through him. He laughed out of reflex. The excitement was too much. He resumed the chase of his new survivor. Her friend was desperately trying to get between them. How dare she? He’d punish her later.

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He swung again this time making contact with her shoulder. She screamed again and it was glorious. She turned into a room, for the first time looking back. If his lips weren’t already stretched to their limits he would have broken into a smile just for her. Especially when she ran right into a shower stall. 

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For a moment they stood there, his gaze boring down at her, she never blinked. She stared right at him. Defiant. Her eyebrows were arched as she stared at him disapprovingly. It was funny. The static at their feet thrummed continuously and he watched as a scream was forced from her mouth. She stood tense trying to keep her body from shaking, trying being the key word. She still stared up at him. 

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He waited. She screamed.

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His breathing was hysterical. He couldn’t suck in air fast enough to expel. She screamed again. The madness had taken its toll and she finally doubled over, fingers digging into her hair to hold her head. Somewhere the doors rang out, the sound piercing his skull. Something seeded deep within him was urging him to _stop them. Hang them._

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When had the generator been completed?

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He couldn’t recall when he swung, but she ended up on the ground bleeding all the same. His hands itched to pick her up. To grab her around that ample waist, rest her curves against his shoulder and hang her like a prized trophy. 

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He stepped back. Even over the static the loud unlatching of a rusted hinge could be heard, followed by the vacuumed sound of air escaping. He took another step back.

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Perfectly manicured nails clawed at the floor and dragged her limp body on the ground, leaving crimson streaks. He followed her, step by step, as she inched towards the hatch. The closer she got the more his head felt like it was going to explode. He imagined his skull inflating before popping like a balloon. Would she laugh if his brain rained down on her like confetti?

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She never looked backed as she plunged into the void. He wanted to reach in and grab her, to pull her back and watch her scream in surprise again. He never did though. His body felt heavy. It was displeased. 

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There would be pain, there always was when he failed. He didn’t much care though, because there was something new.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always welcomed.


	2. Role

Chapter Two: Role

Jane had played a lot of roles in her career. Waitress, host, snarky friend, love interest, dancer, girl at cafe #2. Some were better than others, but she threw herself into the role no matter how big or small. This would be no different. 

When she had first awoken in this God forsaken place she had understandably been taken by surprise. She had come to terms with the fact that her old life was over, but this was not the afterlife she had expected. This was not heaven, and while she couldn’t as easily say it wasn’t hell, she felt that this place was something else entirely. Purgatory perhaps? Some of the other survivors had been willing to wax philosophical, others wanted nothing to do with the subject. They had been here too long and no longer had the patience to deal with the curiosity of newbies. 

Survivors...that's what they referred to themselves as. Jane figured it was appropriate enough. In this plane of existence they weren’t dead, but what they were doing couldn’t be called living either. They were simply trying to get from one moment to the next, one trial to the next. 

Her first trial had been a disaster. She had played a mechanic once, but it was the kind of gig where she wore short shorts and bent over the hood of a car looking at an engine she never had to touch. Repairing a generator was not on her list of skills and she never thought they could be so noisy. She didn’t understand where she was, one minute by a fire , the next surrounded by brick and a creaking water tower. She ran into crates and debris, when she was supposed to be running from monsters. 

Monsters...she never really believed in monsters, not these types anyway. Imposing figures that would have made any slasher fan scream and squeal. Jane wasn’t big on horror movies. She preferred not to watch them, but if she did she never let her fear show on her face, she hid her fear behind rolled eyes and snarky comments about bad CGI. Never did she think she would have come face to face with floating apparitions, men with twisted spines, or an Ancient priestess mottled with plague. 

The first time she had been caught and left to hang on a hook was an excruciating experience. She didn’t last long. Before one of her teammates had made it to her, her spine was pierced by an arachnid leg, her screams had echoed in her own ears and something deep within her had felt like it was being ripped from her chest. The second time hadn’t been any better. The third she had learned to struggle, to not let herself be taken by that dark appendage without putting up a fight. 

She listened to every piece of advice her companions gave her. Every time one of them took a hit for her, or helped bind her wounds, she vowed to get stronger, to return the favor, to not be the weak link. 

Each trial she got better. She drew strength from standing in solidarity with her teammates, she worked on generators with poise and grace, and she channeled her fear to face her opponents head on.

She was still getting the hang of some of the territories, but they were becoming increasingly familiar. No longer did she run blindly in straight lines, she quickly learned that no matter how fast she ran, the monsters were faster. Bobbing and weaving through debris to create distance and buy valuable time for her friends was becoming second nature. 

Between trials there was some downtime. The campfire was the communal spot where survivors would congregate when they didn’t want to be alone. 

Jane sat with Claudette and Ace, listening as the gambler regaled them with a story about how he once bluffed his way into a card game with two royals and an oil tycoon. 

“So i told him ‘I don’t care how many kings you got in that hand, you're still just a Prince!” Ace slapped his knee as he laughed the loudest at his joke. 

Jane chuckled, she didn’t mind his antics, sometimes she imagined Ace was a guest on her show and if she tried hard enough she could hear the audience laughing on cue. 

“Tell Jane the one where the guy tried to pay you with a Tiger” urged Claudette as she twined some primrose together for a bouquet. His eyes lit up as he leaned back against a log, it must have been a good story if the usually quiet woman was requesting it. Jane let her eyes close as the older man began his story with renewed vigor. The fire was warm, Ace’s voice was like honey, and Jane felt herself drifting.

When the warmth left, and smoke began filling her lungs, she knew at once she had gotten too comfortable. Goosebumps dotted her flesh, and she tensed her body to fight off the urge to shake. 

Jane took a practiced breath to calm her nerves before her eyes shot open to stare down the decrepit halls of Léry’s Memorial Institute.


	3. Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Jane meet again. Herman wants her attention and he won't take no for an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy writing Doc's chapters but I worry trying to convey his madness and unreliability can not always translate well to you, the reader. Fingers crossed the more I write him the easier it gets.

Chapter 3: Horizons

To say Herman was anything less than ecstatic would be a lie. He could feel it, this was it. This was the day she would notice him. She’d have no choice. 

He’d been absolutely merciless in his previous trials. Like a child desperately trying to clear their dinner plate in order to get dessert, the Doctor had taken every survivor that had crossed his path and sacrificed them to The Entity. It had been displeased with him for sometime after the first meeting with his survivor, he had let her escape after all. In fact she had been shown favor a few times, each time resulting in anger from the Malevolent being. It took her away from him for some time. In that time Herman had become admittedly...sloppy. He wasn’t proud of that work and neither was It. 

There had been punishments. It tried to break him to keep him in line. He had laughed. Laughed and laughed. Pieces of himself had been lost, there were more black spots in his memory, but that just encouraged the parts of him that were left. Images of dissected rats and mutilated rabbits, a man and a woman fighting at a dinner table with a boy scribbling in a notebook, dark rooms with a single flickering light, a beautiful woman bleeding at his feet. 

Every time it tried to shatter his rebellion, he clung to the image of her olive skin, those dark defiant eyes, and rose colored lips. It pried him open and picked apart his innards just to pull them out and show to him. He laughed, this wasn’t an interrogation, he _knew_ interrogation. This was a negotiation. A negotiation that revolved around him winning the incarnation of muliebrity. A negotiation he eventually won. 

The rules had been laid out for him, and while there was a part of him that _raged_ at the thought of being led like a mule with a carrot on a stick...he needed this. He needed to feed the fire that was sweltering in his gut. He needed to have her. To manipulate her into reaching her potential. To _own her._

_Easy Herman. We don’t want to scare her...yet._

He coached himself, replaying multiple scenarios in his head to how he would charm her. Lead her into his waiting embrace so that he could apply pressure slowly, without her even noticing how powerless she was. 

He turned this way and that, analyzing his appearance for any faults in a grubby hospital mirror. Adorned with a crimson colored shirt, he absently picked at some burnt threads from where his wiring had seared through the fabric, before adjusting his white silk tie and buttoning up his dotted waist coat. He admired his work on getting his slacks perfectly pleated with what little instruments he had about, he pointedly ignored the old blood stains that hadn’t quite come out. His dress shoes had been spit polished and all that was left was to tie off the bandages around his head. The blood that seeped through was a reminder of just what he had to give up in his negotiations for her. He had trouble getting the bandages to stay around the multiple electrodes sparking around his skull so he rattled in a drawer for some forceps to hold them in place. He looked at his little collection of stained tools before digging deeper and selecting a pair of golden forceps, only the best for his girl. He hung his gilded pocket watch around his torso to complete the look. 

_Dashing_ he complimented himself as he wiped away some puss from his swollen shut eye. 

His heart began to race, it was almost time. He quickly hurried to his office grabbing an aluminum bat he had leaning against his desk. He wanted to be flashy. A bit of peacocking to get the attention of his desired object, he thought as he rubbed the bat absently in anticipation. He stared at his morphed reflection in his weapon of choice and felt the room around him tilt and swirl ever so slightly. When he looked up he knew the game had begun.

He sent a static blast into the air immediately. Four screams filled his ears, three were close by, the last was off in a corner. A Beautiful soft sound that called to him. He purposefully ignored it and headed for the others. He could hear the sounds of a generator being nearly completed. 

_Quick fingered little rats._

He sent a shock through the wall, 3 more screams, and they all scattered like roaches. One of them must have crossed some wires wrong when they tried to run because the gen exploded in protest. He went after that one first. A bespectacled young man who looked like he was going to piss himself everytime he looked into the Doctor's crazed visage. One swing sent him bursting forward only to catch his elbow against a door frame, slowing his pace considerably. The electrified fiend pursued him into the room. Watching his prey beeline for a raised pallet he laughed as he swung through it, his swing nowhere near his target. The pallet dropped and he laughed louder as he broke it with a brutal quickness before continuing his pursuit. A gen blared to life in the distance just as he swung for the back of the poor boy's head. His body conveniently landed in front of the hook he would be impaled on. Turning from his first capture he sent another blast through the air, only to hear another masculine scream just around a wall. A would be hero? Oh how he loved when they were so eager to save each other. He continued his hunt. 

The anxious little twerp was nearly dead on his first hook. He’d found the old man not far at all and chased him around the hook. Another had come to try and grab him while he thought the killer was distracted, which led to the current predicament. A redheaded girl was lying on the floor at the feet of her still hanging friend, and the old man was on the Doctors shoulder heading for a hook of his own. Herman giggled to himself the entire time. He had wanted to end this quickly but he didn’t think the survivors would play so well into his hand. Their altruism and hubris had been their downfall, did they really think they could crouch mere feet away and he would let them unhook his catch right away?

_Disrespectful, impatient brats._

The first man’s struggle was over but as he turned to grab the red head he realized an angel of mercy had appeared to take pity on the senseless meatbags. She was beautiful, hair meticulously pulled back to allow one to admire her high cheekbones, and sculpted brows that arched in concentration as she hauled her friend back to her feet and urged her forward, protecting her back. 

_I thought I’d save you for the end, but you couldn’t help yourself could you? You came to me._

He couldn’t contain his giddiness as he chased after them. He allowed them to both clear a pallet, holding back just enough so when the pallet dropped it missed him. It broke under his excitement quickly, and as he looked up he saw a sight that sent his heart beating so fast, he expected it to burst out of his ribcage as an offering to her. 

There she stood, feet planted in confidence, shoulders back, chin lifted, staring him down with a gaze framed by dark feathered lashes. Her hand lifted as if she too could send out a static blast, only for her to take a single finger and curl it towards herself in a come hither motion. The Doctor nearly short circuited. 

The childish side of himself wanted to follow her, to take the bait, but the Scientist in him forced him to focus on the task at hand. He ran after the red head. He needed to hold up his end of the deal. _1 survivor. 1 gift. 3 sacrifices._ The red head never got far, her body went right back to bleeding on the floor, he had to act quickly though. The angel of mercy still worked to undo his plans and had unhooked the old man. Tunnel vision clouded his mind as he went right back for the grizzled elder. The grey haired man went down again. He didn’t laugh as curses were thrown his way, accusations against his masculinity and intelligence. He wasn’t going to take the bait. Nothing was going to get in his way. He threw the cursing, failed survivor back on the hook to struggle and die.

Racing back down the hall he saw his stubborn obsession frantically trying to staunch the red heads bleeding and pick her up once again. Nothing a little shock treatment couldn’t interrupt. It gave him enough time to swing his bat low, sweeping her thigh. The woman buckled, but tried to continue healing her friend. He wanted to admire her tenacity but the sounds of the red head blubbering, begging her friend to go on just filled him with rage. He raised his bat above his head and slammed it against the already downed girl. Two screams filled the air, one of pain, the other of anger. 

“You sick fuckin’ freak!”

He froze. Her first words to him. Such a passionate voice, fearless. He felt sick. He wasn’t a freak. He was a man on a mission, who would do anything to get his desired results. Why couldn’t she see that? He’d make her see it. 

He cracked the bat against her other leg and watched her crumble. Though she screamed, she wasn’t deterred. She gave a meaningful look to her fallen friend, trying to communicate strength and reassurance to her. He _hated_ it. Why wasn’t she looking at him? He took a steadying breath, trying to ignore the way both women seemed unperturbed by their current situation. It was a testament to his survivors strength, that she could rally others even when things were so obviously not in their favor. He grabbed the other woman and slung her over his shoulder carelessly. He’d get rid of her and then he could claim his prize. The anticipation was too much; he was practically humming in delight as he impaled the wretch on the hook. He turned back to where he had left his reward laying only to catch a glimpse of her turning a corner. 

Behind him he heard the pigtailed girl laugh, a sound that irritated him enough to whirl around and bash her still hanging body just to shut her up. The feeling passed quickly as he resumed his hunt. Knowing he was hunting his lovely treasure sent bolts of pleasure running through his body. He was heaving hysterically as he sent another blast and reveled in her scream. She had gotten farther than he would have guessed but it made no difference. A twist here, a turn there, cutting through the many rooms of the institute was second nature to him as he exited a corridor not far behind her escaping figure. 

She had learned quickly. He watched her vault windows and partitions to distance herself, even began running him around an old waiting room, always keeping herself just distanced enough to change directions and stay out of his reach. He stared at her with his one open eye, trying to speak with her like she spoke with her friend. To transcend the need for words and have her accept his attention. She didn’t. She was stubborn, but he supposed that was a good thing. He wouldn’t want his survivor to throw herself at anyone. He simply had to show her, he wasn’t just anyone. 

He caught up to her eventually, and she knew it by the way she eyed the pallet they had looped through several times. He didn’t let up. She twirled with all the confidence of a woman of her caliber, slamming the pallet down with a faith that didn’t falter until she was showered in splinters when the wood shattered on contact. She wasn’t the only one with tricks. 

She tried to run, but his momentum had barely been interrupted, allowing him to reach out and grab her waistband as she tried to vault a window. He pulled her back sharply against his body, one arm wrapped around a soft waist, his other arm brought his bat to lay flat against her collar bones. She tried to wretch free, her body rubbing up against him in a delicious way that had him giggling softly against her ear. He let himself inhale deeply, breathing in her scent of oranges and evergreen trees. Even in his previous life he had never smelt something so intoxicating, let alone in this barren realm. 

_Fuck._

He pushed forward, trapping her struggling body between him and a peeling wall. Her attempts to escape quickly stopped, her body frozen, seemingly not even breathing. Herman hesitated for a moment, had he hurt her in his fervor? He peered down at her to assess her condition. Her eyes were open wide, looking at the wall and purposefully away from him, her heart was beating erratically against his arm. She was trapped, scared and so damn beautiful. He couldn’t help it when his one good eye rolled to the back of his head and he bucked forward against her plush backside. It was then he realized he was fully erect. A breathy laugh escaped him as he realized why she had stopped fighting. He never thought her to be shy, but then again perhaps he was moving too fast. This wasn’t how he planned this encounter to go. Begrudgingly he had to admit that he lost himself in the moment, but only a moment. He was still in control. 

He gripped her chin firmly and twisted her head so he could look into her eyes. When their gazes locked there was no more fear, her defiance was back. She didn’t blink, even as her eyes watered from the strain, she’d never beat him at a staring contest, but he loved that she was trying. It gave him time to follow the lines of her lips, to her neck, and eventually to the collar of her shirt as he tried to see down her cleavage. He craned his neck as if it would change the position they were in and give him a better look.

“You really are a freak” she scoffed.

He brought his head down to violently clash their skulls together, earning him a sharp cry and pained whimper from her. He laughed as pain exploded in front of his eye blotting his vision. 

“Behave” he breathed out softly, his otherworldly voice struggling to control the urge to burst into hysterics. An undignified whimper was his response as the shorter woman tried to collect her jumbled thoughts. Herman took the time to try and collect himself as well, willing his body to push down his urges until the time was right. 

The moments stretched from tense, to unsure, and finally to a somewhat awkward calm as he noticed her heart rate eventually even out. 

“What...what’s happening?”

Finally something directed at him that wasn’t an insult. 

_A quick learner_ he thought to himself proudly. He gave into the urge to nuzzle against her neck, like a cat would a scratching post, but it only earned him a sound of surprised disgust. He froze, cheek to cheek with her, and he began hyperventilating as venom seeped into his veins. He was trying to praise her, to reward her behavior and encourage her continued obedience. 

“Imbecile” he hissed with his cheek still pressed to hers. He tightened his hold around her considerably and felt some relief at the panicked sounds she made.

“S-stop” she begged. 

He didn’t.

“P...please” she gasped. 

“Good girl!” he exclaimed excitedly as he let up just enough for her to breathe. 

His survivor had enough strength to challenge him, enough to make breaking her exciting, because break her he would. Then he would mold her into the perfect specimen. Dig into her flesh to expose her like a raw nerve and rewire her to his exact needs and liking. Together they would make this world bearable, he thought to himself excitedly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Next chapter is already in the works.


	4. Gig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane sits down with The Doctor for an introduction.

Chapter Four: Gig

Jane hadn’t felt so disoriented since she first appeared in this realm. Never would she have thought that running from a myriad of monsters would become her new version of normal. This was a whole new level of strange though. 

A tall, crazed man with wires running throughout his body was currently leading her through the flickering halls of a hospital that probably hurt more people than it helped in its day. A heavy hand was placed on her shoulder, his thumb resting on the back of her neck while his fingers were gently splayed near her clavicle. He was leading her through the halls, a small press here or tug there to let her know when to turn. The ever present threat of him using that hand to choke her kept her from disobeying. 

Finally they arrived at his office, a room she considered herself fairly well acquainted with. He motioned to a chair in front of the desk but she stood her ground. If it bothered him he gave no indication, just a small chuckle. He stood opposite of her behind the desk, pale glowing eyes never leaving her. Jane tried to act unfazed, letting her gaze wander the office, absently noting a gen that had been there during the trial was suspiciously gone along with a few other changes. She could see the books lining the walls had names, most seemed medical or psychology based. There was a ticking sound, as if a clock was taunting her with the passage of time. She noticed what could be a clock on the desk but it was facing away from her, suddenly she was overcome with curiosity  _ ‘Can time be measured here?’ _

The more she stared at the back of the clock deep in thought, the louder and quicker the ticking sound seemed to become until she felt it throbbing in her head. With a gasp she tore her eyes away to find The Doctor still staring. She quickly tried to compose herself under his scrutinizing gaze. She needed to take control of the situation  _ ‘but how…’? _

She had dealt with all sorts of people, both on and off the stage, in theatre and in television. Sizing up the imposing figure before her she realized that she could not simply face him head on. She knew too little about him and he had already overpowered her physically several times. Who was he, what were his motives, means, and methods? Most importantly...what did she have to do with any of them?

Without breaking his gaze her mind wandered to the books lining the walls. With a steadying breath she counted down in her head  _ ‘Marker 3...2...1...Action’  _

She sauntered over to the chair that was previously offered and in one graceful movement sat with her torso facing her captor and her hips slightly turned with legs demurely crossed. His eyes follow the length of her body, not even trying to hide his leering. 

“So tell me Doctor...you are a doctor?” She paused to give him a pointed look “What field did you practice in?”

The monstrous man let out a short laugh before straightening his waist coat and mimicking her body language as he sat in the chair opposite her. He was silent for a moment, the ticking ever present in the background, it took all her inner strength to keep a neutral face. She had heard him speak, she knew he could. She didn’t imagine it…

“Are you...interviewing me?” came his unearthly reply. His voice sounded like there was always an echo just under it. It reminded her of white noise. 

“Is talking not allowed? Do I make you nervous?” a harsh bark of laughter was her reply. She watched as his shoulders bounced up and down with each chuckle, but his stare never left her. 

“My specialty lies in Neuroscience...but I am a man of many talents” more hellish giggles “And what of you Ms…”

_ ‘Is he asking my name? Should I….screw it, not like a name means anything here’ _

“Romero. Jane Romero”

“Ms Romero!” he practically shouted in glee “Jane. Jane. Jane. What a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance. I’ve been dying to introduce myself for sometime, though I’m sure you noticed me”. He paused as if expecting her to reply, unfortunately she couldn’t think of what to say...she was out of practice. 

“Hmmm let me see...Strong, fearless, naturally curious, some attitude problems, leadership qualities...you were a detective? No no no, you don’t mix well with authority. Ah yes a reporter?”

“Not quite Doctor-”

“Carter! But you may call me Herman in private”

Jane stared incredulously but tried to feign indifference  _ ‘Herman...his name is...Herman’? _

“Not quite? I was sure I had you with reporter...let me try again” The doctor leaned forward in his chair and Jane instinctively leaned back.

“Talk Show Host” She blurted out suddenly, to her relief the unstable man stopped his movements and settled back in his chair. 

The ticking sound went by a few times as neither of them said a word when suddenly he bursted out in a fit of hysterical laughter. Jane felt her eyes narrow.  _ ‘ Is this creep laughing at me? Or does he just laugh at everything?’  _

“Really now? And what did you do? Show house wives how to spice up their love life? Look ten years younger? Interview a boy band or two?” He wiped at his dry eyes as if he was tearing up at the hilarity. 

“I was a best selling author and number 1 in my time slot” Jane hissed, immediately regretting it. Who was this lunatic to judge? She felt a lump in her throat, old insecurities trying to bubble up, in this shit hole of all places. 

The laughter stopped so abruptly she almost wanted to question if he had ever laughed. His head was slightly tilted to the side, studying her curiously. Hyper aware of his scrutiny Jane met his gaze undaunted. She had interviewed all sorts of Hollywood narcissists and sociopaths. She wouldn’t let herself be intimidated by this back alley crock pot. 

“Of course my dear, I’m sure you were wonderful” 

She bit at the inside of her cheek to keep from shouting at him not to patronize her. 

“What are we doing here, Doctor Carter?” Her voice thankfully came out even, no signs of frustration or unease. 

“Talking.” 

She wanted to punch him right in that fake grin of his and scream  _ ‘No shit Sherlock’.  _ She settled for rolling her eyes and resting her chin against her fist as she perched her elbow on the arm of her chair. The madman in front of her mimicked her movements.  _ ‘This sonova…’  _ The ex-host instantly recognized what he was doing, she had employed this technique before when interviewing on her show. It was an old trick, mirroring someone's body language to make them more at ease and build rapport subconsciously. 

“Is this some sort of sick initiation then? I feel like the others would have mentioned this if it was par the course” Irritation was seeping into her words, she mentally coached herself to reel it in, but the more she tried to lead this conversation the more she felt she was losing control. 

“Initiation? Others?...No my dear, you are the first I’ve taken a...special interest in”. 

“Special interest...care to elaborate Doctor?”

The electrified fiend rose up from his chair and sauntered around the desk to perch against it in front of her. He placed one arm against his thigh as he leaned forward, meeting her gaze at eye level. Jane became acutely aware of how loud her breathing sounded and did her best to control it, though all she managed was to make herself feel breathless. 

“Ms. Romero you and I are walking into uncharted territory. We are breaking away from the usual game and embarking on something entirely new. An experiment if you will…”

“And if I say no?”

“Not an option.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Everything”. 

Time seemed to slow as the Doctor put both hands on the arms of her chair, caging her in. The smell of charred meat filled her nostrils making her equal parts nauseous and hungry. She hadn’t felt hunger since she entered this nightmare and it left her feeling uneasy. 

“Ms Romero...I’m going to make you an offer-”

“Is it an offer if I can’t refuse?”

An exhale of breath against her face had her turning away only to be grabbed by her chin and made to look into his luminescent orbs yet again. 

“You do not want to refuse me Ms. Romero” His voice had dropped dangerously low, the ticking clock was hammering away and Jane gulped down, heart racing.

“I am going to protect you. Make sure all your needs are met so that you could have no possible reason to deny me. In return...you are going to see to my needs”. 

“No” She gave no thought to his proposal or his previous warning. She had been made similar offers before, a fast track to success in exchange for favors to men who made her skin crawl. She was not that kind of woman, and she’d be damned if she started now. She was going to elaborate on her refusal, tell him just where he could shove it, but she never got the chance. One of the Doctors feet hooked under the seat of her chair and she fell back, head smacking against the ground with a crack that made her vision go black for a moment. 

A sudden suffocating pressure settled on her chest as she managed to look up as the well dressed menace settled on top of her, knees digging into her sides. One hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked back, exposing her neck, while the other hand rested in the cleft between her ample bosom. She could feel her heart hammering against his dark palm, a low tingly sensation emanating from his touch. 

“Look at me, darling” was the last thing she heard before an unimaginable force barreled into her chest, ripping her breath away. She was left gasping under him, trying to figure out what had happened. Her plump lips opened and closed like a fish out of water and before she could collect herself another agonizing ricochet burst through her sternum. By the third impact her body was seizing, muscles tensing painfully and trying to curl in on themselves. The hulking form above her kept her somewhat grounded. 

There was a high pitched ringing in her ears and tears were streaming down her face, the smell of burnt flesh seemingly worse than ever. This is the part where the entity was supposed to come and take her. She tried to stare at the ceiling, looking for the swirling darkness that signaled the end to this nightmare, but there was nothing but a dilapidated ceiling. 

“Darling...I need you to look at me”

A sob wracked through her, sending fresh waves of pains through her battered body. 

“Shh Shh...there there. You're alright. Just over 300 joules of electricity a shock, nothing the human body can’t handle” His voice was a horrible mockery of comfort, and panic was seeping into her very being as she wondered where the Entity was. Where was the campfire? Where were her friends and where was the end?

A rough hand settled gently against her cheek, snapping her gaze away from the ceiling as she unconsciously tilted her head into the caress. She tried to blink away her tears but regretted it instantly. The hellish visage of her captor was beaming down at her, wide eyes and stretched lips haunting her. She wanted to push him away but all her strained muscles managed was to have her arm flop useless against his own. Her only consolation was that the constant ticking seemed to have finally stopped pounding in her head. The only sound left in the office where her quiet whimpers and the Doctors haunting words. 

“You’re safe, my dear.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the views and feedback. Till next time.


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